Stranger in Midgar
by joudama
Summary: Take my name but just let me be. Written for fictunes on insanejournal with the musical prompt Stranger in Moscow.


**Title:** Stranger in Midgar**  
Fandom:** Final Fantasy VII (between the end of the game and AC)**  
Character/Pairing:** Rufus Shinra**  
Rating: **PG**  
Word Count: **924**  
A/N:** Sorry it's been so long since I wrote anything, but I've been so sick lately (the docs figured out I suddenly developed an allergic to something at work and it was causing asthma-like reactions; I then had an allergic reaction to the second kind of allergy meds they gave me--I had to switch because the first kind weren't working at were turning me into a zombie; I could blink slowly at the computer at work and that was about it) and haven't been up to doing much of anything lately. ;_;

As for this fic, I...had a rather hard time trying to figure out who to write this for, but when it came, oh boy, did it ever come. ^^;;**  
Music Prompt:** Michael Jackson - Stranger in Moscow**  
Summary:** Take my name but just let me be.

--

"Leave me."

"...Uh...you sure that's a good idea?" Reno said, sounding slightly jittery as always. "You're not, y'know, gonna do nothin' _dumb_ or nothin'..."

Rufus let out a faint snort of amusement. "I assure you, Reno. If I felt some strange urge to die, I would not have made it as far as I have. If I felt some strange urge to die, I would not have made it as far as I have. And if I wished to 'end it all,' well, I simply have to _wait_," he said, and he couldn't hide the faint bitterness that came out, nor did he need to turn around to gauge Reno's almost palpable stiffening.

"Aiight," Reno said, and Rufus had to strain, just the tiniest bit, to hear Reno's quiet footsteps away.

"I will call when I require assistance," he said, and this time, his voice did not give away how much it stung.

The next sound was that of the gate to the elevator opening, and then the pained whirs and cranks of it moving.

Rufus was alone.

He wheeled himself closer to the edge of the top floor of the ruined building and stared out at the city. It was dark, dark with the fading day and the rolling in of rain. The wind felt like rain; had that heavy, looming feel of impending rainfall. Maybe not a storm, that wouldn't be for hours, but rain was coming.

The city of Midgar had changed.

His entire life, he had looked out at Midgar from the top of the ShinRa building, but now that familiar cityscape was gone, destroyed forever. Once it had been sprawling and intense, littered with light and bustle. Now it was jagged and broken; dark with only sparse lights that flickered uncertainly. It was as if Midgar had not been destroyed but _gutted_, only a broken frame remaining, and she likely would never rise again on her broken and twisted frame.

In one moment, everything had changed, for both the city and himself.

Bones were funny things. Most other organs, they would right themselves instantly with a Cure. Bones, though...they were fickle things, forgetting their shape easily, opting instead to fuse however they were rather than right themselves. It was why they had to be carefully set, before a Potion or Cure was used, or else they would heal however they were, even if the shape were wrong. Solidity won over perfection, and they preferred an immediate frame over a sound one.

There had been no time to set his bones; no time to counter the foolishness of bones. And so he was alive, but imperfect.

If he ever walked more than a few steps unaided again, it would be a miracle.

It was raining.

He had not felt the rain on his face in a long time.

Once, he had been on top of the world. The heir to ShinRa; he had held all of the power in the world in his hands. Even before he had replaced his father, the name "Shinra" had been enough. While now it inspired hatred and disgust, it had once given him access to everything he wanted, no matter what or who it was. It had given him _everything_. He had seen people's reactions to him, to his _name_. Their respect, their awe, and more importantly, their _fear_.

There was a reason he had broken with his father over how to rule the world. His father preferred to rule through the power of money, of being able to buy whatever it is he wished, be it women or influence or technology, but Rufus, he had preferred to rule by _fear_. Fear was a powerful thing, more powerful than money could every pray to be, and Rufus knew that very well.

Rufus ShinRa knew the power of fear, because he had been _afraid_.

He had feared so much, more than anyone could have every guessed. Any one looking at him would never have known how much fear ruled his life, but it had. He had feared his father, when he was young. Even as he grew older--he had feared his father's ability to strip Rufus of everything at a whim. He'd had to be the obedient son, even when his father disgusted his with his extravagance and vulgarities. But Rufus had been far, far too aware of his own powerlessness, and his own weaknesses, and he had feared.

It had been that fear that had driven him towards having some of the same procedures as SOLDIERs had gotten. He was only human, after all, and he wanted to be weaker than no man. Some of that, he suspected, sprang from having been kidnapped once long ago, for ransom; while he had only been taken a few hours, that fear had stayed with him, shaped him. He had been a young child and the memories were faded and fuzzy--even the face of the man who had taken him was gone--but he remembered the fear.

He had feared losing the power of his name, he had feared those stronger than himself, and he had feared death.

And now he had nothing and his name a burden. Now his body was broken and weak, and he would depend on others for the rest of his life. Now he had only to look at his face and hands to see how little time he had left.

Fear had brought him here, had taken everything from him and given him _only_ the things he feared, and he realized that he had been wrong about everything, _everything_, his entire life, that he had lost everything that had once mattered so much only to discover it had meant _nothing__,_ and he was alone with the weight of it.

And he was so _afraid_.

There was rain on his face, and he could imagine that that was why his eyes stung.

--


End file.
